


Beyond the Border

by Naga_Lord



Category: Original Work
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Bonding, M/M, Magic, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Obsessive Behavior, Pack Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Shapeshifting, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:22:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29111508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naga_Lord/pseuds/Naga_Lord
Summary: More than once, Dune would think back on that day with a curse on his lips. If their car hadn’t broken down, if his co-worker hadn’t been out sick, things could have worked out so differently. Now he was on their radar, and they had no intention of letting him go.Dune couldn’t tell if this family he never knew of loved him, or just wanted him back for the sake of pride. He didn’t understand what they wanted from him or what the pieces he caught glimpses of actually meant. Most of all, he was bewildered by Trillian. Trillian who wanted all from him. Who wanted all of him. Trillian who devoured himDune did know though, that he would not roll over and give up.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 33
Kudos: 86





	1. It begins

**Chapter 1**

**New realisations**

**Unwanted ends**

**This is where**

**Your life’s path bends**

When you boiled it all down, it was all because of rotten luck; Dune was supposed to be on vacation. Those people weren’t supposed to dawdle around on this side of the border. The only people who ever really called the family’s shop were the regulars, and cars really weren’t meant to break down. But cars did break, Eddie was out with a cold, Dune’s tour had been delayed and his stupid Uncle had just poured his heart and soul into more advertising. When the call came in regarding a car with a flat tire, his Uncle had praised good marketing and sent Dune on his merry way.

And that’s how it all started.

Dune smacked his car door shut and jogged up to the pair who had called for his help, all smiles and charm. Sun hit the glassy screen of the car, hiding the figures inside in shadow all the while filling Dune’s eyes with light. The passenger door slid open and out stepped the largest man Dune had ever seen. The sight of him made Dune’s gait skipped a beat. The man was practically a giant. Easily over 2 meters, the man towered over him like a mountain. His arms and legs were thick with muscles, flexing even through his clothes. A light breeze snagged at the curly blond strands way on top of his far off head, and pale blue eyes narrowed with the light hitting them. Getting close to him, Dune’s smile stiffened but he managed to keep it on. Just from the look of him, Dune could tell this guy wouldn’t be smiling back. He might not even know how. There was a harshness to him; a hard clenching of the jaws, tensed muscles and cold eyes. As he turning towards the person still inside the car, his movement flowed like water. Like a predator.

Dune’s pace slowed as alarm bells went off in the back of his head, flowing down his spine. Danger, but not danger. Dune didn’t know how to read it. 

“Wait inside,” the large man grunted, then smacked the door shut. First after sending a lingering look inside the car, exchanging something with the passenger inside, the giant turned his full and frowning attention back to Dune.

A pulse shot through Dune, tickling down from the roots of his hair, down his back and thigh, bundling up in his heals. A nervous energy, like carbon dioxide in his flesh. The giant’s eyes went from narrowed to owl huge.

“No,” he breathed out, taking one step closer. Dune took an unconscious step back. “It can’t be.” Everything about the large man shouted tension, alertness, and to Dune’s great bewilderment, horror.

“Vall,” the man called out, sounding almost desperate, never taking his eyes from Dune. “Get out here.”

Out of the car skipped another man, light on his feet like a squirrel. He in turn was tiny. At least a head shorter than Dune, easily under 1,7 m. There was a merriness to his movements, his body sleek and fast. His hair fell down to his shoulders and it bounced with his airy steps.

“Stay inside. Come out,” the man nagged jokingly, jogging up to them. “How about making up your mind, huh.” As he got close, his smile fell away and his eyes pulled towards Dune. His jaw dropped. “But…” he breathed out, no more words finding their way though his mouth kept moving. Lost.

“Hey,” the larger of the two said, smiling softly towards Dune as the air about him changed to something soft and caring. Leaning forward, he seemed to try to make himself a little smaller, but instead only managed to loom over Dune. “Everything is going to be alright, see. It’s gonna be okay.”

Utterly confused, Dune looked from one of them to the other. He could actually feel how the both of them tried to feel as safe and… and _home-like_ , as possible.

“Okay,” Dune said, shifting his stance and readjusting the tool bag. The two of them just vibrated of concern. The bag grew heavy in his hands and his palms began to sweat. Gaze shifting between the two men, Dune had no idea what to say to these two _weirdos_. “So…” he tried. “You called about a car…”

“Forget the car,” the large man said, taking two carful steps towards him. Dune tightened his grip on the handle. “We’ll help you home.”

“How did you even get here?” the smaller of the two said, horrified concern oozing from him.

It was just ridicules.

“Look,” Dune said, shifting his weight. He tried for a reassuring smile. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I here to help you with your car… Like you called and asked for…” He trailed off searchingly, radiating calmness. At least, he tried to.

“Well yeah, of course,” the smaller of the two said, holding his hands placidly in the air. “We did- we do! But that’s not as important as you.”

“Were you taken here against your will?” the large man asked, steel creeping into his voice, eyes flashing. “Or,” he visibly trembled as he tried to dial down to something calmer. “Did you sneak over the boarded on your own?” In a lower tone he muttered; “Not that I see how you possibly could.”

“Border?” Dune repeated, blinking. “You guys think I came over the border?” The both of them tensed. Quickly, they sneaked a look at each other. This was just getting more and more bizarre.

Dune looked them over. Really looked. A flutter of warning quivered in the back of his mind. Letting out a deep breath, he put the pieces together. “You’re from the border.” The only thing Dune knew about the people who lived on the other side of the huge wall with its thick gates and heavy patrolling, was mostly just rumours and hear say. He knew they were Guardians and Channels, though he didn’t know what that meant. He knew they could turn into animals, got crazy from the Moon, and ate the meat of the bones of animals they killed with their bare hands. They were also perverts and madmen who fucked anything and everything in their way and would just as likely crush you as bend the knee to you. Probably more than half of what he knew about them were lies.

Shaking his head, Dune tried to give them a placating smile. He felt how it pulled at the edges of his mouth. “I was born here. I’m a Norm. I’ve never been on your Side. So,” he tried again, palm sweaty as neither of them so much as twitched, dropped their frowns or just stopped staring. “How about we take a look at your car?”

The two men had been very silent after that. The large one, the _Guardian_ Dune guessed, didn’t speak so much as one more word. The smaller of the two did try to respond to Dune’s questions and gave him small smiles now and then, trying to be reassuring. Puffs of it rolled of off him in waves. The mere force of it shipped out the edges of Dune’s own worry, but he never dropped his guard. And as he worked, from the corner of his eyes, he saw how they stared at him. The giant especially bore down on him with an intensity he had never encountered before. Dune cast him a glance and worked on. The man’s arms were folded, his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed so tightly together the colour got squeezed right out of them. Something was brewing behind his pale eyes, boiling inside him. Like steam from a kettle gushing out: Frustration. Irritation. Suspicion. Anger. And concern. Above all, so much concern. The thickness of it unsteadied Dune’s normally so sure hands.

Dune popped the engine closed with a loud smack, relief washing over him like a cold rain. Never before had he been so relieved finishing up with a job. Hoisting his tool bag over his shoulder, he gave them the sparkliest smile he could manage and backed away towards his ride.

“North and Sons thank you for choosing us at your time of need. Please call us again when you’re in want of mechanical service.” The rehearsed phrase came out fast and easy, having been said a million times before. “Have a pleasant day,” he finished and almost ripped open the door to the driver’s seat.

“Wait,” the large man said. A ripple shot through Dune and his body froze. Confused, he glanced at the man. “Tell me your name.”

“Dune,” he said, not thinking, only reflex. Slowly blinking his eyes, he gave his head a tiny shake.

He shouldn’t even have been in today.

Damn Eddie and his worthless immune system.

OOOOO

After Dune had left the two men on the road, staring after him in the dust, he thought that was that and all was over. He would never see them again. He would never meet someone from the Other Side ever again, because no one ever did. Only politicians and high up businessmen. And Dune was quite happy with that.

Because of that reason, he had been utterly bewildered when, as he was working beneath a car, the two men marched into his Uncle’s shop, closely followed by four more men, also with the look of people from the Other Side. Accompanying them was two policemen and the Mayor himself. 

Confused by their presence, Dune rolled out from beneath the vehicle. Oil was splattered on his blue work cloths and he reached for a towel to wipe the worst smears from his hands. With his knuckles he tried to wipe out a dark smear on his cheek, but only made it worse.

Had he somehow managed to offend these people? Dune couldn’t think of anything he could have done to warrant _the Mayor_ to come.

“That’s the one,” the large man from before proclaimed, pointing a large finger at Dune. Six sets of eyes laser focused on him. A breath went through them as one, and every set of muscles in them tensed.

Predators. All of them. Dune felt it to his core.

The Mayor scratched his head.

“Mayor Santos,” one of the people from the Other Side said, voice sharp and cold. Curly red hair tumbled down to his shoulders. Freckles adorned his button nose. He was at least a head shorter than Dune, built small and lean. He radiated Predator all the same. It took Dune more than a little effort not to shiver. “We look very harshly,” the man continued. “On the abduction of one of our own.” The temperature in the room dropped.

The Mayor flexed his hands, awkwardly rubbing them down over his hips. Very causally he looked Dune up and down. The man was searching for a sign. Anything to distinguish Dune from all other Norms. Something to witness to his otherness. Uncomfortable weariness rolled of off him in ways.

Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t seem to find it. There was a special look to the people from the Other Side. Even Dune could see it, and he had no experience with the people. Of the eight men, half of them were giant tall, thick with muscles and oozing force. Their eyes were sharp, almost glowing. The other half of the men was almost, but not quite the opposite. Where the first group were tall, these were short. Like, very short. Around 1.60 meters, he was sure of it. And all of them were shorter than Dune. They didn’t have the larger men’s thickness in muscle mass, though it didn’t seem to matter. Every single one of them radiated predator all the same. A wolverine might not be a big as a lion, but it will tear you apart all the same.

Dune had nothing of that. The tallest of the shorter men at best reached Dune’s shoulder while all the giants towered over him. At 1,75 meters tall, Dune was just average height, nothing special to say about it. He also completely lacked the predatorial energy oozing out of these men. The only thing really unusual about Dune was his colouration, with his white hair and pale, pale green eyes, small flecks of gold sprinkled in. It made him stand out from his family whose hair and eyes came in different shades of brown and warm hazel. That small thing was hardly enough for all this drama though. Dune could see no similarities between himself and these people. From the doubting energy sparkling in the Mayor, he wasn’t convinced either. That Dune could work with.

With the tension thickening, Dune put down the dirty towel, feeling the need to have his hands free. Just in case. In the corner of his eye, he noticed how the four larger men, all on the side of giants, tensed as he moved. He tried to keep all of his movement slow, so slow.

“Mayor,” he said, turning to the man. A little bubble of fear rose in his chest that the man might not be in charge. Dune desperately needed him to be. “What’s going on here?”

In the back of the large room, a creaky old door opened and shut. Throwing a look over his shoulder, Dune saw his Uncle stride towards them, looking just as confused. Their eyes met and Dune’s eased, some of the tension seeping away. Finally. Back up.

“There’s no need to struggle anymore,” said one of the men he’d helped back then on the road; the smaller of the two. His voice was calming, steady and sending protective vibes into Dune’s very core. Blinking, Dune almost swayed where he stood. “We have found you. We’re here for you.” He paused. “There is no longer any need to pretend.”

“What is this all about?” Dune’s Uncle asked, one eyebrow raised. Tomme’s eyes went from Dune to the heap of uninvited visitors, lingering a heartbeat on the more violent looking part of the group. Somehow picking up on the tension aimed at Dune, he walked up beside him and draped his arm around his nephew’s back.

It all went so fast. Dune didn’t even see them move. One of the large men seized his Uncle by the neck, forcing him back. Another one grabbed Dune around the waist and pulled him with him towards the group, swirling him around to be surrounded by the smaller men.

“Don’t you touch him,” one of them snarled, voice dripping with venom. Helpless, bordering on hysteric, Dune watch from behind a wall of bodies as his Uncle get slammed up against the car Dune had been working on all morning. One of the smaller men put a hand to Dune’s stomach. Calm gushed into him and Dune sagged in their hold.

The two police sprang to life, but the last two gigantic men blocked their path. One of them roared. Every Norm froze at the sound, hardly even breathing. Something thick and dangerous and deadly thickened the air.

“Gentlemen,” the Mayor said as soon as he managed to draw for air. He took a tentative step forward, hand placatingly in the air. “Please. There is no need for violence. Let’s talk this out the way that civilized people do.”

“Civilised?” one of the smaller men around Dune spat. “That’s rich.”

The red-haired man spoke up again. He held one hand on Dune’s arm, one over his stomach. His voice was all ice.

“You have to understand, Mayor.” His words cut like a dagger. “Our entire nation would be willing to go to war for this one soul.”

Dune’s uncle gurgled while all colour drained from Mayor Santos’ face.

“There is no need for war,” the Mayor said, a slight tremble leaking into his movement. “We know how you regard your citizens. We would never keep one from you. As I said, there is no need for violence.”

“But I’m not!” Dune pressed out, steadying himself while trying to get untangled from hands who wouldn’t let him go. All eyes swirled to him. “Mayor,” he said, giving up on removing the hands holding him back. “I’m a Norm. I was born right here. I am a citizen of Kalifray. I,” he huffed out. “Am right where I belong.” The mayor frowned.

“Boy,” the large man who had pulled him into the tight tangle of bodies said, voice gentler than anything else that had been spoken. “We know what you are. Every single one of us can feel it.”

“You don’t have to be scared,” the short guy from the car said, eyes so full of sympathy. We won’t let them hurt you anymore.”

“No,” Dune insisted, feeling a cold lump moving up from his chest to settle in his throat. It was hard to push his thoughts through the haze of their concern. “You don’t understand. I’m not one of you. That’s my Uncle,” he waved at the man they still roughly held down. “I was born right here. I,” he turned frantic eyes to the Mayor. “Am a citizen of Kalifray.” This only seemed to anger the group even more.

“What lies have you been feeding him,” the man holding his Uncle down spat in a hiss, tightening his grip so that Tommen’s face started to change colour.

“Let him go,” Dune snarled, throwing himself towards them, but was pulled back by the group around him. “You’re killing him!”

The giant man threw one glance at Dune and narrowed his eyes. His chest rose and fell while the muscles in his jaws flexed. Then he straightened up and dropped Dune’s uncle like a rotten back of plums.

Tommen fell to the flow, gasping and coughing. Clutching at his throat, he rubbed at the skin. Dune knew it would bruise.

“Dune,” the man rasped, glaring at the intruding group. “Is my nephew. I should know. I was there at his birth.”

“Impossible!” snarled the man to Dune’s right.

“We know what he is,” the red haired hissed. “And no amount of lies will change that.” He turned to the Mayor. “The Alpha has already been informed. We accept nothing else than what is ours. He is off us. He belongs with us.” He narrowed his eyes. Dune stilled, staring at the smaller man. A ripple seemed to run through his skin. The pupils in his brown eyes changed into slits and for a second, Dune was sure the man’s teeth grew sharper.

“There is a very steep price to pay if he is not returned to us.” The redhaired’s words weighed down the room like poison. The Mayor wet his lips.

“The boy doesn’t seem to think he belongs with you,” he said, meeting Dune’s gaze.

“There is no doubt he’s a Channel,” one of the giant’s snarled. “You have taken one of our most vulnerable members and filled him up with lies. You have made him a stranger to himself.” The man’s voice lowered to a dark snarl. “I’d hate to think how young he must have been for you to manage that.”

“I’m not one of you,” Dune hissed, feeling his own heartbeat, weighed down by the anger of those around him, broken by his Uncel’s pain and the whole world felt like it was spinning.

“Alright,” the Mayor said. “Alright.” Taking a shaky breath, he drew a hand through his thick, brown hair. Something hardened in his features, and he straightened his back. “The boy says one thing. You another. I can’t tell. I don’t have the senses to know whatever he is.” The men from the Other Side opened their mouths to interject, but the Mayor raised a hand and silenced them. “So, we will do a test.” The room stilled. “We will make sure, down to the very core, if he is a Norm and belongs to Kalifray. Or we will know if he is one of yours. If he is, he will, immediately and without delay, be handed back to you.”

“When it is proven that he is a Channel,” the red haired said. “We want justice on those who took him.” All eyes swivelled to Dune’s Uncle.

“If it is proven that he is one of you,” the Mayor said. “You will have it.”

OOOOO

Two weeks. That’s how long it took for the test to come back. Fourteen long days. Twelve days longer than it should have.

The Other’s had agreed to wait. They agreed, they said, for Dune’s sake. So that he truly would know what he was. So that he would understand what had been done to him. Tommen had snarled at them as they said it.

Four of the six went home. Back to their side of the border. Two stayed. The red haired, Corven, and his Guardian – the one who had pulled him away from his Uncle. Ander. They had refused to leave his side. Every move Dune made; they were shadows behind him. Every place he went, he would always see them. They camped outside his apartment; watching him come home in the evening, return in the morning. And they waited.

After fourteen days, twelve more than it should, the Mayor called them to a meeting.

OOOOO

The Mayor stood beside his desk. Papers lay on the top of it. Papers about Dune. Tommen stood behind him, gently squeezing his shoulders for support.

“I don’t understand,” Dune said, unable to grasp the enormity of it all. The Others were rumours and figments and something else. Somewhere else. An otherness. They had no part of him.

“We were chocked too,” the Mayor said. “But,” he gestured down to the papers. “This clearly speaks the truth.” He pressed his lips together, making them pail and small. Then he folded his hands in his lap. “We doubled and triple-checked the results. There is no doubt.”

On the other corner of the desk stood the Guardian and the Channel, glaring down on the papers like they were the enemy.

In clear letters you could read Dune’s status. A Channel. To the core of his being, he was one of the things he grew up almost viewing as fairy tales.

But then there was his mother. His very Norm mother.

“This is beyond precedent.” The redhead, Corven, said, never taking his eyes from the papers.

Dune was a mix.

The whole world tilted.

“Who is your father, Channel?” the Guardian asked him.

“I,” Dune said, searching for words. “I don’t know.” His mother had never told him. She had refused to talk about it at all. Only said he was a warm summer’s breeze, blowing away as fast as he’d arrived. Tommen stood stiff and silent; jaws clenched together so hard they creaked. 

“Your mother will have to tell us then,” Corven said, voice like iron.

“That,” Dune said, shakily rubbing at his eyes. “Will be hard.”

The Guardian and Channel turned to him, eyes narrowed and bodies stiff. Distrust hung about them like perfume.

“No really,” Dune sighed, exhaling deeply. “She has Alzheimer.” He shook his head. “She won’t be telling us anything.”

OOOOO

It was a mess. It had taken some convincing to make the pair agree not to disturb Dune’s mother with questions she would never have the answers to. Then they had demanded his blood. A small vessel’s worth. They said that was all they needed to figure out who had sired him (their words not his) on their own.

As he watched his blood leak from his arm into the small tube of glass, Dune turned his attention back to the Mayor.

“But I get to stay.” Corven and Ander grew very still. Dune cast them a quick glance, but fought to keep his focus on Mayor Santos. “I am just as much Norm as Channel. I was born here. I have a citizenship here. My family is here. I” he continued. “Grew up here. Here is all I know.” He glanced at the two from the Other Side. They stood like the silence before the storm.

“I…” the Mayor said. “…Have no grounds to terminate that citizenship. It, it is your birth right.” He fixed Dune with his gaze. “It will not be revoked.”

“And being 27 years old, being a citizen and a Norm - because I am,” he said, shooting a quick glance at Corven and Ander. “That means no one can force me to do anything.” He met the eyes of the two strangers. “I get to choose where I go.”

The Mayor stood very still. For a long time, he stood much too still. Pearls of sweat broke out on Dune’s brow.

“…That,” the Mayor finally conceded. “Is what being our citizen would mean.”

The vial was filled. Corven gently removed it and plugged it up. He met Dune’s gaze. For a long time he just stood there. Watching. Appraising. Weighing.

“We will be in contact,” he said at last. “When we have located your father.” He put the blood-filled flask in a small leather pouch hanging from his waist. And just like that, they were on the move. After having stalked him for two weeks. After hurting Uncle Tommen. Scaring him. Disrupting his work.

“There’s no need,” he heard himself say as they opened the door. “For you to hurry with that.”

They met his eyes. Dune expected to see annoyance. He expected to feel irritation roll away from them in heaps. What he did see disturbed him more. It scared him more. Almost made him feel sick.

Pity. What they felt towards him was pity, protectiveness, and sorrow. So much pity, protectiveness and sorrow.

And just like that, they were gone.


	2. Spin

** CHAPTER TWO **

**The jojo might go for a spin,**

**But the hand always reels it in.**

A month.

It took a month before he heard anything from the land on the Other Side of the Border.

Long enough for him to be stressed out.

Long enough for him to convince himself they had forgotten him.

Long enough to hope they had moved on.

The first contact came in the form of a letter.

_Dune North, Henceforth Dune Adalbern,_

_I have been informed of your existence._

_As your Sire Guardian, we will meet._

_I will await you at the border, 10:00, on Monday, second of the Moon._

_/Devon Adalbern_

The date the man had set was a week into the future. Dune har crunched the letter up into a little ball and thrown it away.

The date came and went. Dune’s skin tingled from the inside. When he sat, he had to get up. When he stood still, he found himself pacing. When messing up for the third time in twenty minutes, his Uncle sent him home.

Filled with ants and jolts, he went and got his guitar. An hour later he sat by his mother’s side, in the carehome where she existed. He sang her favourite songs to her. She didn’t remember who he was.

Two days after their “appointed meeting”, another letter came.

_Dune Adalbern,_

_As your Sire Guardian, you will meet me._

_I await you at the border coming Monday, third of the Moon, 10:00._

_/Devon Adalbern_

Dune glare at the name plaster to his own. Folding the paper neatly, he put it in his back pocket. Once at work, he took out a blowtorch, property of North and Sons, and burned it into powder.

Two days following his “missed meeting” another letter came.

_Dune Adalbern,_

_I am your Sire Guardian. You are part of my house._

_You will meet me._

_I await you at the Border next Monday, forth of the Moon, 10:00._

_/Devon Adalbern_

Like all the others, the paper was rich and beautiful. The address was written with a golden pen. The letters were neat and precise, perfectly straight and right on the line. A whisper of a scent hovered over it, something Dune couldn’t quite place.

He ripped the letter up into tiny little pieces and flushed it down the toilet.

The day after the latest meeting he had pointedly ignored, the last letter came.

_Dune Adalbern,_

_You know the date. You know the place. You will come._

_If not, I will find you._

_/Devon Adalbern_

Dune folded his arms around himself, trying to create warmth as all in the room had blown out.

Shaking slightly, he stared down on the letter on the table. Drawing in a shuddering breath, he gazed up at the ceiling. Closing his eyes, he remembered the group of six, Guardians and Channels, who had pushed their way in to his family’s place of business. Pushed their way into his life. Turned everything on the side.

Staring down on the letter again, he pressed his jaws together. The ants and lightning were back inside his body. Biting, jumping, running, flashing. Every part of him felt pulled in a new direction.

Fighting back nausea, he closed his eyes. He focused on his body, starting with the toes, working his way up the legs, along the stomach, all the way up to the top of his head. Relax. Calm down.

Did he want to meet this man?

Did he have questions for him?

…What would happen to his life if he decided to meet with him?

‘He is ours’ they had said. ‘He belongs with us.’

‘We will have him back.’

Dune left the note on his kitchen table. Picking up the phone, he stared at it as he made some calls. He had money saved. He had been planning a tour anyway. Sure, the rest of the group couldn’t come along with this short notice, but he loved the sound of only the guitar too. He could just switch the places where he performed to coffeeshops and small events. Enough strings had been spread during the years for him to manage that.

The last call he made was to his Uncle. Tommen didn’t even hesitate to give him the okay for his hastened and long leave. Three months all in all. Jumping from town to town over half a continent. A continent of Norms. Of regular people. Everyday people. The known and safe and ordinary.

Before closing the door to his apartment, Dune flipped the letter the bird.

OOOOO

Three months went by fast. Just music and singing and happiness and joy. Traveling, exploring, living free.

It all went by so fast.

As he reached his apartment door, the ants started up again, making his skin all jumpy and wild. Rubbing a hand through his hair, he drew in a deep breath, holding it. _Find your centre, Dune!_ The sudden burst of a bird flying away from the bush right beside him made him jump where he stood.

And now he just felt ridicules. Shifting the weight of the bag on his shoulder, feeling the comforting mass of the guitar strapped to his back, he unlocked the door and went inside.

The letter still lay on his kitchen table. Snorting, Dune walked up to it. To think that such a small thing would have scared him away for three whole months. Ridicules as the whole thing was, he still felt a hum of dark satisfaction over not meeting the demands of this unknown, arrogant man whom kept sending him these stupid letters. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he thought about the man, standing there waiting as no one came. He must have looked so stupid, this Devon-person. Why had Dune even let the letter lay around. He should just have tossed it like he did with the others. This man had no power over him.

Reaching out to pick up the offending piece of paper, Dune’s hand froze in the air. His heart stilled, his blood ran cold and he forgot to breath.

On the note, beneath where the man had signed his name, a new line was written. The letters were just as perfect, every bit as neat and straight and tidy.

_Then let the hunt begin._

What did that even mean?

Feeling his lungs burn, Dune remembered to breath. Swirling around, his eyes chased after shadows. After movement. Anything.

The door had been locked when he came. A quick run through the house showed that all windows were closed and locked.

How the hell had he gotten inside?

OOOOO

That day, Dune hadn’t been able to get anything done. He went to his mother, but he was to shaken to be able to play for her. She stared at him with hooded eyes and just couldn’t remember where she’s seen him.

“You should have told me,” he whispered at her, tightly clutching down the anger he couldn’t lash out at her with. “You could have warned me.” But she just looked at him with empty eyes and no words to give him.

OOOOO

Someone was waiting for him by his door.

“Mayor Santos?” Dune said, readjusting the weight of the guitar case.

The man gave him a stiff smile, and nodded a hello.

“Dune North,” he greeted. The sound of his last name chimed like silver bells. “We meet again.”

“That tend to happen,” Dune said, shifting from one foot to the other. “When you wait around outside someone’s home.” He bit his lip and looked from the Mayor to his door then back again. “Why are you here?”

“You want this conversation inside or outside?” the older man asked, trying to give him a crocked smile but not having the energy to pull it off. “If it’s all the same to you, I would love to sit down.”

With butterflies storming in his stomach, Dune gave a shallow nod and unlocked the door.

“I’ll make tea,” he mumbled, and stumbled into the kitchen. Fall was coming and the winds had a bit of bite to them. Mayor Santos mumbled something from behind him.

Within moments they sat with a cup each, a soft scent of lemon flowing up with the steam. Dune took a sip and burned his tongue. He took another one. The Mayor just stared down at his.

One minute. Two.

None of them spoke.

Three.

Dune clenched his hands so hard that his nails dug into his palms.

“There’s no easy way to say this,” Mayor Santos finally breathed out, relenting to the silence. Dune closed his eyes. “You will have to meet your father. No excuses, no avoidances, no playing hooky.”

“I don’t see how that is any of your business,” Dune gritted out between his teeth, tightening his hold on his mug.

“No,” the Mayor sighed. “It really shouldn’t be.” Then his eyes became hard. “There is a limit to the power I have. There is a limit to my influence. And your father, well,” the man shook his head. “Pulls considerably more sway than me. He has spoken to my bosses’ bosses, you understand. And he has the full backing of an entire pack behind him. Hell, maybe even their whole half of the continent. People are scared. It has been generations since we last had a confrontation. I’m sorry,” he fixed Dune with his grey, steady gaze. “They are not ready to risk one just because of you. So,” he sighed. “You will have to meet your father.”

Dune bit the inside of his cheek. Tasted blood.

“My citizenship…” he started, staggered on how to finish it.

“Hasn’t change. Hasn’t been revoked. Dune,” Santos said, putting his hand over Dune’s, squeezing it gently. “All they ask is that you meet him. All he wants is for you to meet him. You still belong on this side, with us. They can’t force you to leave.”

“But,” Dune bit out, the weight of the other man’s hand on his almost crushing him. “Once I’m there, how can I know that? How do I know,” he said, voice trembling more than he wanted. “That I get to come back?”

“Dune…” Santos said. Trailing off.

“Didn’t you just say,” the younger man continued, voice thick. “That you didn’t want to risk anything because of me?”

“I am sorry,” the Mayor said. “But you will have to meet him anyways.”

And that was that. Nothing left to say. Mayor Santos rose and the chair scraped against the floor. Dune twitched at the sound. “He expects you at the border tomorrow, ten O’clock.” Dune glare down at the table, clenched fists shaking.

The Mayor didn’t wait to be shown out.

As the man reached the door, opened it, Dune realized something.

“How,” he called out, jogging up to the other man. “You came today. I’ve been gone for three months. How did you know to come today?”

The Mayor didn’t even try to pretend to smile.

“Your father called me,” he said. “He said you had returned home.” And with that he left. The click of the door closing echoed in the wake of his words.

OOOOO

The next day, at 10 am, Dune was waiting at the border.

It was a weird place, the passage between their two countries. Birds sat at the top of the building. That fact alone wasn’t strange, but the types of birds made it so. It ranged all from small, glittery things, so tiny you could hardly see them, to large enormous ones: haws, eagles, types Dune couldn’t even name. Some of them swirled through the air, flying loops and circles. A lot sat on the roof. All of them stared at him.

With a shiver swirling down his back, Dune made his way inside. The intensity of the eyes staring down at him made him want to hurry his steps, but he pushed the urge down. He was going to get through this with his dignity intact.

There was activity on this side of the gatehouse, but there was no real line. People didn’t travel between the two continents if they didn’t really have to. From what Dune could tell, the other people there were all merchants. Business flowed freely between the two sides even if people didn’t.

Dune stood out like a sore thumb. His clothes lacked the flashy air of the businessmen gunning to impress. He had no bags where the others had at least one. All the others had an air of focus and purpose hanging over them. Their eyes shined with concentration and not a few of them kept glancing between documents they held in their hands and the receptionist. Dune just wanted to go home. Shuffling his feet, he went over to the counter as his number came up. The middle-aged woman who sat there eyed him curiously.

“Please state your business,” she told him with a smile.

“I have a meeting with a Devon Adalbern,” Dune bit out, sounding surlier than the poor stranger deserved. The woman scrolled through her computer screen, and as her eyes landed upon something, they doubled in size.

“And your name would be?” she asked, almost breathlessly.

“Dune North,” Dune said, rubbing his hands on his hips, shifting from one foot to the other.

He didn’t want to be here.

The woman’s eyes narrowed and she leaned closer towards the screen.

“I have a Dune Adalbern written down.”

“Yeah,” Dune said, anger starting to rise. “I don’t go by that name no matter how much he tries to force it on me.”

The woman’s head snapped up. For three straight seconds, she just stared at him. The she blinked her eyes and the moment passed.

“Go through those doors right there,” she said, leaning forward and pointing down the hall. “A Guardian will meet you on the other side and lead you the rest of the way.”

“Thanks,” Dune muttered, turned on his feet, and walked towards the large cursed doors. They were painted white. Golden flowers were decorated along the edges. As he got closer, he noticed animals hidden among the petals. Then he was there and had to push them open.

Just as the woman had said, a Guardian waited for him on the other side. Another large man. Another giant. Dune wasn’t short, at 1,75m, but these people towered over everything. The man was easily close to 2 meters tall.

“Hi,” the man said, eyes almost popping when he saw Dune. As slight blush crept over his cheeks. Was it something Dune had done? He had no idea what it could have been. The Guardian cleared his throat, looked to the side and scratched his nose. Whatever momentum he was trying to catch, it seemed to work. With a crocked grin, he gently, but surprisingly fast, hooked arms with Dune, making him jump. This only made the Guardian’s smile broaden.

“Well,” he said, all towering charm and ease, nothing like Dune had been expecting. “Then I’ll just show you the way.”

Being linked up, arm in arm, only managed to make Dune feel stupid. He tried to yank his arm back, but the Guardian wouldn’t let him. Frustrated, all he could do was let the large man pull him along, resenting every step they took.

From what Dune could tell, they moved from one side of the building to another. Just like that, he realized, he had left all the safety of home behind. The building had passed into the others’ territory. All his security with the Norm society had vanished as soon as he’d walked through those gold painted doors.

The Guardian led him to a room, gave him a wink, and ushered him inside.

“Dune Aldarbern has arrived,” he said, clenched his hand over his heart, and walked back out the door. Dune was so surprised by his action that he forgot to snarl at the man over his choice of name.

“So,” a voice said from behind him. “You came.”

Slowly, Dune turned around. A large desk was on the other side. A larger man sat behind it, his presence alone looming over anything else inside. The only other person was Dune.

Choosing not to walk up to the man, Dune simply folded his arms and leaned back. The other didn’t seem to notice. As the man looked down on his papers, Dune looked down on him.

They were nothing alike.

Dune’s hair was blindingly white: the man’s so brown it bordered on black.

Where Dune’s skin was fairly pale, worked over by a warm summer’s golden tint, the man was darkly tanned. Dune’s eyes were a very pale shade of green with flecks of gold in them. The man’s were a deep, warm brown. Like all the rest of the Guardians, he seemed to be a mountain of a man. Dune couldn’t guess how tall with him sitting down. His hair was cut short, four lines flashed through his hairline: scars where no hair would grow. Even though he was clearly middle age, his arms were thick with muscles that rippled and played as he moved. Dune hid his arms behind him. He was fit, and he did take care of himself, but it was in no way any match for the mass in front of him. How did he even have the energy to maintain all that, the age he was?

“You’re tall,” the man said, only then lifting his eyes from the papers. “For a Channel.”

The annoyance was back. Burning under his skin.

“I don’t consider myself a Channel,” he bit back – whatever a Channel was.

“You are,” the man said, in a tone that would accept no argument. Dune didn’t want to play this game.

“What do you want?” he threw out, not caring for first impressions. “Or am I here only for you to remark about my height?”

“I was expecting you months ago,” the man said, putting a stack of papers in a neat pile. “As you well know. Tell me,” he asked as he got up from his chair. “Was it worth it? Doing it this way instead?”

For a while, Dune just stood there quietly. The large man let him, waiting patiently for Dune to find his words. In the end, there was really only one thing he could say.

“Why should I come? “he asked, looking the other straight in the eye. “27 years. That’s how long I’ve gone without anything of you in my life.” He tightened his hands on his arms. “I have both family and warmth. I don’t need you. I’ve never needed you. And,” he chuckled darkly. “From what I’ve seen of you and your people so far, I don’t want you either. So,” he let his arms fall down his side. “Get on with saying whatever you intended to say, so that I can get on with my life and forget you ever crossed my path.”

The Guardian in front of him, Devon, his _father_ , regarded him silently. The flow of emotions Dune so normally always used to feel did not come flying through with this man. Emotions who usually were so thick they were like a physical thing. Dune could sense nothing from him. This man. This stranger. He couldn’t make out one single thing. Not a thought, not a whim. Not a single emotion, neither small or large. It unnerved him more than he thought possible.

“You’re Par is everywhere,” Devon said at last.

“I don’t even know what that means,” Dune retorted, voice flat.

“Obviously. And at your age, that is a horror. Not even children are this open.”

“Well, I don’t need to know about it,” Dune bit back, cheeks burning, feeling insulted over something he couldn’t even understand. “Because my life isn’t connected with any of yours.”

“You are my son. That makes you a part of my house, which entails quite a connection.”

“You can’t impose anything on me,” Dune said, staring down on the floor. “Being the age I am, belonging to the country I do,” he sent the man a cold stare. “I am my own Master and Keeper both.”

“You think so?” the man asked, tilting his head. The Mayor flashed before Dune’s eyes. Words guaranteeing no back up would come.

“Why,” Dune said instead, changing the topic. “Am I here.” The Guardian waited a beat, making unspoken promises sink in.

“I want you home.” That was that. Noting else to it. Just a simple, firm statement.

“Home, as in your side of the border?” Dune asked, snorting. “No thank you.”

“It’s where you belong.”

“No,” Dune said, heat in his words. “It’s not. And I’ve already told you. I have family, home and a life I want to get back to. There is no room or need for you.”

“You don’t even know what you’re turning down,” Devon said calmly, hand on his hip, tapping gently with a finger.

“I don’t care,” Dune said, clenching his jaws.

“Come stay with us,” the man said. “For a week. Only one week. We are your family too, and we want to get to know you.”

Fear pulsed through Dune. Even as Devon stood waiting half a room away, Dune could still see it. He felt it. The man was still hunting him.

“You have two brothers,” the man said. Taking a step closer. “Forrest is the same age as you. Blake is two years younger. You have an Aunt and an Uncle.” The man took two steps more. Another one. “Cousins. Grandparents.” He stood right in front of Dune now. Gently, he put his hand on Dune’s shoulder, startling him. A gentle energy seeped into him, calming him down. Polishing down all his angry sharp edges until he was unsure why he had ever been mad at all.

“Don’t we get a chance to know you too?” the man asked, voice soft and gentle. Warm and comforting. Dune swayed as Devon rubbed his shoulder. His eyelashes almost fluttered close.

“A week,” Dune managed to push out. “Only a week? You won’t try to force me to stay?”

“No,” Devon said, voice thick and deep. “I won’t be forcing you to stay.” Dune felt a little drunk.

“One week,” Dune said, feeling his legs get week. “I’ll stay with you for one week.”

“Great,” Devon said, giving him a grin that was all teeth. “You will stay with us, two weeks from now, during the Week of the Moon.” Dune nodded, only half noticing the glow in Devon’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be out by next weekend. Like this one, I have it already written, I just need to search for mistakes. With a bit of luck, I might find most of them ;)


	3. The deep pool

**Chapter Three**

**Scratching, searching**

**Find the longing**

**See how they fall**

“I really don’t like this,” Uncle Tommen said, absentmindedly rubbing at his throat. Dune had stopped in to the shop to say good bye before he left. He had debated whether he should leave his guitar behind but had in the end come to the conclusion that a trip like this would be in great need of his strings. He was only half sure why he had decided to go at all.

“The Mayor seems to think I need to ease their relationship with these people by being cooperative,” Dune said quietly, readjusting the rucksack slung over his shoulder. Tommen snorted angrily. With harsh movement, he slammed his tools down on the counter.

“You be careful, Dune. We know _nothing_ about these people.”

“No,” Dune said, thinking back on their first encounters with the Others. They had been desperate and predatorial in their want to protect him from their perceived ‘dangers’ of this side. “But I don’t think they mean me any harm.”

“Dune,” Tommen said, gently grabbed him by the arm. “Their idea of harm and yours might not be the same thing. Just,” he said, squeezing Dune’s arm just a little. “Be careful.”

“I will, Uncle Tommen.” Dune said, putting his hand over his uncle’s. The skin beneath his fingers were rough and harden from long years of hard work and greased up with motor oil. Rough hands that worked hard for his family. For Dune’s cousins. For Dune. Tommen exhale heavily.

“Come here,” he said, pulling Dune into a fierce hug. “I won’t stop worrying until you come back,” he sighed over his shoulder.

“It’s just a week though,” Dune said, trying to be optimistic. He bit his bottom lip, staring down on the floor. “He said,” he continued, chewing on the lip. “He said I had brothers. Can you imagine?” he smiled at Tommen. “Actual brothers.“ Growing up, Tommen had cared for him more like a father than a Uncle. When Dune’s mother had taken ill, he had stepped up even more. He had two sons of his own, Jack and Sam. They were almost like brothers to Dune. Almost. There had always been a divide. Always an unspoken distance. They hadn’t meant for it to be that way. It just was. Then boom, it turned out he had genuine brothers of his own.

“I would really like to meet them,” he said, voice low. To think. Brothers of his own. It was almost unbelievable.

“Take care of Mum for me when I’m gone,” he asked of his Uncle before he left.

“Always,” the man had promised.

OOOOO

Devon had picked him up on the Other Side of the Border. His car was big and red and fancy. Curiosity nagged at Dune over what Devon worked with, and at the same time he didn’t want the man to think he really cared. It seemed better to keep a distance between them. Devon could tell him himself if he felt like it. Dune wouldn’t bring it up. From the reaction of the woman in the reception, the flash of his car, and the way he put pressure on the very bosses of the bosses of Dune’s Mayor, he understood that the man must carry quite a bit of weight. Looking out the window, watching the world pass by, Dune wondered if maybe it was nicer not knowing at all.

“Here we are,” Devon said, turning up a driveway. Dune’s first impression of the house before him was the sheer hight of it. Though the house only had two floors, each one of them were massive. The paint on the walls were white and roses were growing up along the side. The roof was a warm brown and a soft steam of smoke danced out of a huge chimney. The lawn was enormous, but only one apple tree grew on it. All around it and on every other spec of space, flowers grew. They were arranged to look wild and kept at the same time. Different colours and sizes and forms. The very air seemed fresher in their company.

Somehow Dune couldn’t picture Devon working with the dirt.

Suddenly feeling unsure of himself, Dune trailed after Devon towards the house like a lost puppy.

“Blake won’t be able to make it this time,” Devon said as he opened the door, ushering Dune inside. “But Forest will be by to meet you tomorrow. He’s not in town at present, but he will make it here.”

“Oh,” Dune said, feeling a bit disappointed. In a way, it was ridicules. What was he expecting, really? He was the half-brother they’d never met. What was to say they even wanted to meet him? And Forest was just six months younger than him. Had Devon… cheated with Dune’s mother? Was he the produce of an illicit affair? A fruit of shame? A bitter taste filled his mouth.

“Your room is on the upper floor,” Devon said, leading Dune through the house and to an airy room. The walls had a soft and pale green colour, intensified by green flowery curtains. A vase of wildflowers stood on a table in front of an open window. The view showed hills thick with chestnut trees. Dune had never seen so many in one place. A whole forest full of them. Flickering out between the trunks and branches, he thought he could make out the reflective, glittering light of a lake. 

The room had one large bed. On the other side of the room stood a soft chair with a polished desk with carved ornaments. There was also a door leading into a private bathroom just for him.

“Leave your things here, and we’ll go exploring,” Devon said from the doorstep.

OOOOO

Devon took him everywhere. They walked in the woods, went to the lake. There really was one. He drove Dune around to see the town, get a coffee, see the local statues, going going going until Dune’s head was spinning. They didn’t stop to talk with people though. Many tried to get a word in, but Devon gave them a sharp smile, a stiff node and waved them off. Some would glance at Dune, but none of them would push.

When they got back, Marina, Devon’s Channel, still wasn’t home, so they took a walk to the nearest grocery store. It took them about half an hour to get there. They bought some supplies and then walked back again. Dune didn’t fail to notice how Devon made sure to carry all the heavy supplies himself. Maybe it was a Guardian thing? Dune tried to not let it get to him.

Once back at the house again, Marina had arrived. They found her singing in the garden, picking some of the late flowers with a cutting knife. She was, not surprisingly, a short woman. Her thick black hair was pulled into a messy bun with lines of grey shooting through the strands. The apples of her cheeks were tinted a healthy rose and she had freckles over her nose. One strand of her black hair had escaped its imprisonment and bounced as she moved. When she caught sight of them, her whole face lit up.

“Devon,” she greeted them with a smile, rushing over and throwing herself at him, giving him a great hug.

“Maybe you should put that away first,” Devon said with a crocked grin, pointing at the knife.

“Oh, yeah,” Marina laughed, looking down on the thing. Then she glanced over at Dune. Her brown eyes widened slightly and she seemed to stiffen. As fast as it came, it went away. “Welcome to our home,” she told him with a bubbly smile. “Has Devon showed you around the place?”

“Yes,” Dune said, his smile more forced than hers. “All day long.” As nice as they were, it was still awkward being here. He scratched an itch on his arm. As if he didn’t belong. And if you were being truthful, did he really?

OOOOO

They spent the evening playing a boardgame Dune had never seen before. Marina ended up winning and she laughed loudly at Devon’s pitiful loss. The large man in turn pretended to be grumpy and pinched her nose. It only made her laugh more.

They seemed nice enough.

“I noticed you brought a guitar, Dune,” Devon said as he packed the game pieces back into the box.

“Yeah,” Dune said, turning his wandering attention back towards the man.

“You play?” Marina said, clapping her hands together.

“He’s in a band and does tours,” Devon clued her in, putting the box away among their other games.

“Would you play for us?” Marina asked, eyes sparkling. “Oh, please?”

“Well, I…” Dune said, rubbing the back of his neck. Why was he feeling shy now? “Sure.” He said with a small sigh. “Okay.”

Dune went to collect the guitar while the other two waited for him in the parlour. It still stood leaning against the green wall where he left it. Carefully putting the casing on the bed, he unboxed the instrument. Its edges were black and the centre a deep blue. The colours bled into each other, creating a soft shadowy fade between them. Gently, Dune drew his fingers over the strings, testing the sound. The tones rang sweet and true. Opening a small folder on the guitar casing, he took out the blue shimmering pick that was his favourite. Sighing, he drew it over the strings, listening to the sound again. Closing his eyes, he drank in the tones.

Playing for a small audience was so much more personal than to play for a large room. He was beginning to feel nervous.

Throwing the guitar strap over his head, he went down to the others. Marina was practically sparkling with enthusiasm. Leaning forward, fingers against her lips, her eyes were twice their normal size. Devon sat next to her, leaning back against the couch with his arms spread out over the backrest. A chair stood in the middle of the room, turning the space into a scene, waiting for him.

Dune began with three songs he’d written himself. Happy songs to make you laugh. Marina was a very rewarding audience, making the whole thing more fun with all the right kinds of reactions. Even Devon chuckled at a few places. Having played those, he asked if there was anything they’d like to hear. Marina quickly named a song that Dune had never heard. She was quick with a new one, but Dune was unfamiliar with that one too. The silence became thick.

“Roses’ groove,” Devon said in that calm way of his. The song he’d named was an old, sweet classic about love with unhappy endings. Dune shot him a smile, relieved Devon knew any of the songs from his side of the border.

When he’d finished, Marina had tears streaming down her face.

OOOOO

It was the second day of Dune’s stay. The knowledge that he’d get to meet one of his brothers that evening made every minute feel like an hour. A nervous energy buzzed through him, making him hopelessly restless. Picking up on his inner turmoil, Marina had made him help out in the garden. She had him digging up potatoes, leeks, carrots and cabbage. His shirt was sticking to his skin from sweat, pouring down his back. The sun hung fat on the sky and not a cloud could be seen.

“We’ll have these for dinner tonight,” she said as she helped him organise wicker baskets for him to carry the greeneries in. She had taken the day off to spend time with Dune, she’s said. It was a little embarrassing, but Dune was a bit relieved to have her around. The air around her calm him. Like with Devon, Dune had a hard time sensing anything from Marina, but she sent out this calming buzz. It was nice having her around. _‘It’s almost as if she’s pumping me with emotional chill-pills’_ Dune thought and laughed to himself at the ridicules notion.

As the day went on, Dune learned a lot about the older woman. She had a very bubbly personality and were quick to laugh and share of herself. As luck would have it, she was the proud owner of a large flower shop. It was with no small amount of pride that she had told him that everything she sold she had grown with her own two hands. Beside her own garden, she had three large greenhouses where her creations came to life and grew.

Finally, she called it quits and said it was time to start up with dinner. With a great heave of air, Dune sagged against the garden spade, causing Marina to laugh.

With time to spare, Dune took a long shower. The warm, wet rays washed away the dirt and sweat, soothing his sore muscles. Rubbing his hair thoroughly with a towel, he went down into the parlour where Devon sat watching the telly. Sighing, he sank down in one of the armchairs. It was so soft and fluffy that he sank right in, cosying up in the pillows. A woman at a desk, holding papers in front of her, was relaying the news.

“This will be the second day of the Week of the – “. The screen went black.

Surprised, Dune turned around to see Devon put the remote control down.

“When,” the large man said, turning to Dune. “Did you realize your love of music?” he asked.

“Well,” Dune said. “It’s always been there, really. Mom said I sang before I could talk.” He smiled, thinking back to when they’d actually been able to hold conversations. It was such a long time ago… Pulling himself back to the present, he gave Devon a lopsided smile. “It was probably the flute she gave me when I was five that settled it, though.” He laughed. “Uncle Tommen nearly lost it from all my off-tune screeching.”

Devon smiled.

“You play more than one instrument, then?” he asked, stretching out where he sat.

“Well yeah,” Dune said. “I can play the flute and the piano. I’m somewhat passable with the violin. I’ve kind of got the ear for it, so I can make nice enough sounds come out of most instruments if I just get to play around with it a little first. But it’s the guitar I love.” Even as a kid, the instrument had called to him.

“I could see that. You have quite the collection.”

Dune startled at the statement.

“Right,” he said, smile gone. “When you broke into my apartment.” Devon just smiled at him. Everything had been pleasant enough for Dune to forget the kind of person he was dealing with. Maybe he had longed for a real father more than he’d realized.

“Tell me,” Dune said with a chill in his tone. “How did you get in?”

“I have my ways,” Devon said, sipping on a cup of tea. It smelled of lemon and honey. Dune narrowed his eyes.

“Most people wouldn’t brag over breaking and entering,” he bit back, watching for a reaction.

“Special circumstances,” was all the man said, taking another swallow from his tea. Dune bit back another retort. Irritation coiled like a stone in his gut, but he didn’t know what more to say. What _do_ you say to someone who feels so entitled that they think they can just walk right into your home, welcome or not. The picking feeling of wanting to ask the man again just what he did and who he was to have such an effect on his surroundings overtook him again, but Dune resolutely pushed it back down. As curious as he was to know, Dune was still afraid to seem too interested in the man.

OOOOO

The time for dinner was rapidly approaching. The house was overflooding with lovely scents of homecooked food; roasted potatoes and vegetables, steaks, grilled garlic. Marina’s cooking flowed together to a mouth-watering scent. Dune had asked her if she needed any help and had been allowed to set the table. Just as he put down the last cutlery, he heard a car drive up the driveway.

With a stomach buzzing with nerves, he rubbed sweaty palms against his hips and followed a bouncing Marina towards the door. Feeling out of place, he lingered back in the hall, taking on the role of watching.

The door opened and a huge man came bursting in. Marina squealed out a “hi!” and threw herself into the large man’s arms. He laughed and gave her a warm, long hug. Letting go of her, he kissed her forehead.

“Hi mum,” he said with a beam.

“Out of the way, you oaf,” a woman’s voice said from behind him. A short woman elbowed him out of the way and fell in turn into Marina’s arms. “Hi!” the woman said with a beam as the large man jokingly rolled his eyes.

“So dramatic,” he said, eyeing the ceiling.

“Oh, you,” the woman huffed, playfully slapping him on the arm. “Like you’re one to talk!”

The man only shook his head and chuckled.

“Good to see you, son,” Devon said as he walked in from the Livingroom, putting a firm hand on the man’s massive shoulder. The man gave him a warm smile. “You too, Laila.” Devon finished, nodding to the grinning woman.

“So,” the man said with a smile. “Where is he?” Suddenly, all focus was on Dune. It might have been one of the most uncomfortable moments of his life.

“Erhm,” Dune said, lifting a hand and giving a short wave. “Hi.” The massive man’s eyes grew big and he froze. It only lasted for a second, then he was all just one big smile. Moving faster and lither than such a large body should be able to, he walked up to Dune.

“I’m Forest,” he said, gripping Dune’s hand in both of his. “Oh, what the hell.” Before Dune knew what happened, he was enveloped in the largest hug of his life. This man, this Forest – his _brother_ – smelled of cologne and sunshine. His eyes were a warm and kind brown, slightly lighter than his messy mop of brown hair. “You’re so big,” the man, Forest, laughed, letting go of Dune.

“He sure is,” Laila said, walking up to them with a smile. “I’m quite jealous actually.” She gave Dune a hug too. “I’m Laila,” she said with a beam. Her eyes were green and her hair was black, cut short to curl around her ears. Though radiating warmth, there was an edge to her. The same edge he felt even stronger from both Forest and Devon. It was buried beneath a blanket of warmth though, confusing him. “Welcome to the family.” Her smile was kind, reaching her eyes. She meant what she said. 

Overwhelmed, Dune didn’t know how to respond. He swallowed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Like with Devon, he had a hard time picking up the emotion from these people. Mostly he felt hints of care and concern. They truly wanted him here, he thought. Still. This wasn’t actually Dune’s family. He didn’t know how he felt about them welcoming him to it as if he had accepted a place within it. After all, Devon had pretty much threatened and forced him to come. Still, one must not be rude. Probably.

“Thanks,” he said with a small crocked grin. The man – Forest – gently grabbed his chin and tilted Dune’s face up.

“I have a tiny big brother,” he chuckled. “I can’t believe it.”

“You just said I was big,” Dune protested. Forest laughed.

“Not that much.” Forest turned his eyes towards their father. “Are you hiding anymore kids, dad? Really, how many oats have you sown?”

Devon gave a cocked grin. “Oh, just the one. Then I met your mother and she would have killed me if I’d played around.”

“Darn right,” Marina said, circling her arms around Devon’s waist. “Had Dune been just a few months younger, we would be having an entirely different conversation,” she said and laughed. “But he isn’t so Devon may live,” she grinned up at her husband. “And now it’s time to eat!”

OOOOO

The dinner was lovely. There had been no awkward pauses, just a good happy time. Dune had actually enjoyed it more than he thought he would. They had asked him questions about what he did. His garage work interested them little, but they had lighted up at the mention of Dune playing music.

“Oh, you must play for us,” Laila had insisted.

“Oh yes, please. He’s so wonderful!” Marina had said, clapping her hands together like before.

“Will you?” Forest asked, smiling softly to him.

Again, Dune felt ridiculously embarrassed, but he nodded and agreed. Marina insisted that he played them the songs he’d played earlier, so Dune did. This time he didn’t risk it by asking them for suggestions but played a few of the more popular songs from his side of the border. When he let the last tune ring out in the room, the last word sung, a silence filled its wake.

“That was beautiful,” Laila said, sinking back against the cushions and curling up to Forest.

“Yeah,” Forest breathed out, eyes far of in the distance.

Dune gave them a bash smile and began to put the guitar back in its casing.

“It truly was,” Devon agreed and took to his feet. With a lazy stretch, he straightened his back and rolled his shoulders. Again, Dune was impressed how fit the man was for his age, all cords of muscles and not a spec of fat on him. Dune didn’t know how he did it. In the back of his mind a whisper reminded him. _Predator_ , it breathed to him. Silently, discreetly.

“What we need after this is some ice cream.”

“Sounds nice,” Laila agreed with a laugh.

“We forgot to buy some though. Dune,” he said, putting his focus on the smaller man. “You wouldn’t mind going out to buy some, would you?” The room went very still. Dune snapped the last clasp shut and cast a glance at the watch. It was ten minutes to eight. It had taken half an hour just to get to the store. He wouldn’t be back until by nine.

“But dad,” Forest said, voice strained. “It’s eight o’clock.”

“I know what time it is,” Devon said. Forest opened his mouth as if to say something, but a look from Devon silenced him. “That won’t be a problem for you, right Dune.”

Dune straightened, a firm grip on his guitar. He didn’t really see the need for the walk just to get some ice cream, but he didn’t want to seem whiny. The weather was pleasant enough outside and a walk _could_ be nice after a large dinner.

“Sure,” Dune said. “I can get ice cream.”

“Excellent,” Devon beamed. He pulled out his valet from his back pocket and handed Dune some money. The currency was, to Dune’s surprise and frustration, different on this side.

“Dad,” Forest said, shaking his head slowly.

“Enough Forest. Dune doesn’t mind doing it,” Devon said, a bit more steel in his voice than he’d previously had. “Thank you,” he said, returning his focus back to a bewildered Dune. “I do have some things I need to go through with your brother here, boring work talk, you understand. With this, we wouldn’t have to bore you with it and can give you the attention you deserve.” As he talked, he walked Dune to the door. “Do you remember the way?” he asked as Dune put on his shoes.

“Yeah,” Dune said, straightening up. This air was warm but with a slight chill to it. Dune pulled on his jacket. Patting down his pocked, he made sure his phone, id and credit card was with him. It was all reflex really. His phone had no service here and he couldn’t use his card for anything. Still, he felt better having them with him. The money Devon had given him rested securely in one of his pockets too. 

“The night time is lovely around here,” Devon said, a glimmer in his eyes. “Do take your time to look around properly.

“I can’t imagine it being that different from earlier,” Dune said, adjusting one of his shoes. “But I will.” Looking up, he startled. All of them had followed him and Devon to the door, staring at him.

“Well,” he said awkwardly. “I’ll be back in a while.”

“See you later, Dune,” Devon said, closing the door after him with what Dune could only describe as a smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun Dun DUN. Wait, whaaat?  
> Oh well, I hope you enjoy the story so far :)
> 
> Next chapter is, like last time, already written. I just have to look it over a bit. That means the next update will be releasad by the end of next week. Not really sure what day though because I have to work during the weekend.


	4. Devour

**Chapter Four**

**I thought**

**I found**

**My heart**

**In you**

The early evening air was late summer sweet. A scent of flowers perfumed the air and crickets chirped from the bushes. Above him in the trees, birds sang and swirling around. A gentle wind blew by him, tugging at his hair and sweeping past, saying hello and good bye all in the same breath.

Putting his hands in his pockets, Dune strolled down the street. The rhythmic clacking of his walk gave a beat to the critters’ music. Taking a deep breath, he let the late summer night wash over him. Something sweet hung in the air, something he couldn’t describe. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Still, taking the time to look at all the houses and gardens around him, something nagged at Dune. It was all so empty. It was still bright out; the weather was warm and wonderful. The sound of birds and crickets gave everything a beautiful shimmer.

So where was everybody?

The gardens stood empty. The road ahead and behind him was void of people. There was a lot of houses here. Why was no one outside?

“Hey!”

The call came from one of the side streets. Turning towards the voice, Dune saw a man come running up towards him. He was large, maybe the tallest guardian he’d seen so far. Long black dreadlocks bounced around him in a high ponytail as he came bouncing up. His skin had a beautiful chestnut tone and his eyes. Dune swallowed. They were a warm honey gold. Dune felt himself get weak in the knees.

Upon reaching Dune, the man laughed, making Dune’s stomach do a little flip. 

“Hi,” the man said, giving Dune a blinding smile, showing of two dimples. A sparkle of electricity shot straight through Dune, from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.

“Hi,” he breathed out. The other man laughed again, his cheeks gaining colour. Heath spread in Dune’s chest, filling him up with butterflies.

“You’re out here too,” the man said, laughing breathlessly.

“Yeah,” Dune said, feeling out of breath too. The man was the most beautiful person Dune had ever seen. His cheekbones were high, his eyes were laughing, and his smile. His smile made Dune swoon.

“You’re so open,” the man said, reaching out towards him. When his fingers touched Dune’s chest, Dune gasped for air. Trembling, not knowing why, Dune leaned into the touch. The man put his palm over Dune’s heart. Dune thought his chest would explode. Heat and pressures built up inside him and he didn’t know why.

“So open,” the man mumbled, tilting Dune’s head up. Staring up into the huge man’s eyes, Dune let out a shaky sigh. His lips parted. He was so tense that he shook.

“I never thought I…” the man trailed off. One of his hand slid down Dune’s arm, setting his skin aflame. Dune leaned in closer. The man, in response, bent down and kissed him.

The world exploded.

It happened so suddenly. Without thinking, Dune threw his arms around the others neck, moaning into the kiss. His dick swelled and rose, feeling trapped in his pants. Dune could have screamed in frustration. He actually might have.

The man growled into his mouth and Dune swallowed the sound. Itching to be touched, Dune grinded against the other man, anywhere he could reach. The man let out a sound of pure need. He grabbed Dune by the waist and lifted him up just at the same time as Dune circled his legs around the other’s waist.

The man pushed Dune against a tree and thrust against his hips with his own. The movement made Dune see starts and it still wasn’t enough. The lips pressed against his swallowed the sounds he made. Dune only wanted more. The only thing he could think of was _more_.

The man pulled out Dune’s dick, leaking with precum, and then took out his own. Dune bit down on the man’s neck and sucked as the man pressed their dicks together while stroking it with firm and hungry pulls. It was heaven and it was hell because it was so much and it wasn’t enough.

Palming him, sucking on him, rubbing him and making him burn, the man played with Dune’s body like Dune played with the stings of his guitar.

Without a thought, Dune let the man lead him away somewhere, all too caught up in the moment. Even as they stumbled on, high on each other, the man never stopped touching him. It wasn’t enough though. There was something more Dune wanted. He didn’t know of what. But he needed it.

Without ceasing to palm at one other, they stumbled their way into a house. Dune’s jacket was thrown to the side, shoes kicked off. Dune could remember something foggy about being carried upstairs. Then he was dropped on a large bed.

The man pulled Dune’s shirt off and threw it to the side. Bending down, he sucked on Dune’s nipple, making Dune arch his back and groan. Kissing down along Dune’s stomach, the man was fumbling with Dune’s jeans. Dune’s mouth was dry. His body was on fire. Something was reaching out from the man and into him. And energy, a touch, something. Dune had never felt anything like it. With the deepest conviction, he knew, that that very something which reached for him, was what would make him whole. He needed it. It hade been made for him. Opening up like a flower to a bee, he let it in. Gently, firmly, heatedly, it filled every nook and cranny of his being. From the tip of his fingers to the valleys of his soul.

The man pulled Dune’s pants and boxers down to his hips. Freed, Dune’s dick stood tall, tingling with need. The man licked him from base to head. Dune mewled. Then the man swallowed him. Dune’s eyes crossed. Bobbing up and down, the man sucked him down, cheeks hollowed. Dune’s back was as taught as a bow, his whole body trembling. When his release came, Dune saw stars. His body shivered as the large man’s hands steadied him, stroking circled along his sides.

Kissing him just below the navel, the man pulled Dune’s pants and boxers all the way off, throwing them to the side. He nudged Dune’s legs apart, lining up their groins. Even through his haze, Dune was bewildered by the wetness leaking out from him. Then, as the man gently pushed himself inside him, Dune didn’t think anymore.

With every thrust from the man’s hips, something inside Dune exploded. Like stars and fireworks and brilliant suns. The man was inside him, his scent was in Dune’s nose, his energy in his heart, his being in his soul. Dune curled his legs around the man’s hips, meeting his thrusts. The man grabbed Dune’s hands, curling their fingers together.

Dune was drowning in him. His touch was fire, his kisses were life. When the man moved inside him, Dune never wanted him to stop.

OOOOO

When Dune woke up, golden rays of sunshine fell down on him from a large bedroom window. Birds sang in the trees outside and the sky was a clear blue.

He was alone.

Foggily, he sat up, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Drawing for a shaky breath, he remembered the night before. A sharp blush burned his cheeks and he gritted his teeth. Groaning, he covered his face with his hands.

What the fuck was that?

A shiver passed through him from just the memory of it, making his dick stiffen.

It had been the best sex of his life. But still… What the fuck? Not once in his life had Dune ever jumped on a man like that. In fact, Dune swallowed, he hadn’t been with that many men at all. Like, not a one.

Shaking slightly, Dune slid from the bed. A sunny golden glow filled the room. He was alone. Looking down at his own body, a hot blush burned his cheeks. He swallowed and, with shaking fingers, traced the path of marks left from another man’s touch.

Dune didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry.

Weren’t they still waiting for him back at Devon’s place? Dune closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath.

Rubbing at his face then letting his hand slid up to brush through his hair, Dune tried to collect himself.

“Get a grip, Dune,” he muttered to himself.

He was still naked. Thankfully he was at least alone. Chewing on his lips, he glanced around the place. The room he was in wasn’t much more than a bedroom. The bed was huge and was the crown feature of the place. To one side, he saw a large wooden wardrobe, old school style. Beautiful carvings decorated its surface. It looked to be sturdy and very, very old. Against the other wall stood a wooden chair. On it, in a neat and carefully folded pile, Dune saw his own clothes. The room also had two doors. Peeking through one, he found it led into a hallway. The other one opened up to a large bathroom. Dune sighed in relief.

The bathroom was beautiful. The large space had sparkling tiles both on the floor and walls. A soft, fluffy carpet lay in the middle of the room. In one corner stood a large shower and in the other end towered a massive bathtub, big enough for more than one person. Big enough for more than two people. Dune steered his gait towards the shower. On the way, he stopped to glance at himself in the mirror. The sight made him close his eyes. His entire body was littered with hickeys and love bites. Seeing them made him remember the night before. How that guy had touched him. Kissed him. Dune bit his lip. Without thinking, he touched one of his nipples, remembering how the man had sucked on it. Swallowing, his body began to tingle and his dick swelled up.

Glancing down, he let out a long puff of air, blushing.

He was going have to do something about that too.

OOOOO

After a quick but thorough shower that enlightened him of even more “lovemarks”, Dune had pulled on his old clothes. In spite of the crazed fire between him and the stranger, his clothes had actually not been torn. The worst… stains he had tried to scrub off. Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, it was time to see what lay beyond the room.

He would just have to tell this guy that this wasn’t really normal behaviour of Dune. He rubbed his hands against his hips. Dune would just tell him… He would say… Dune cursed under his breath. This was fucking awkward.

With his heart in his throat, Dune snuck into the large hallway. Well outside the bedroom, he realized the house had to be massive. Everything was wide and specious; it was high to the ceiling, the hallway was wide, the rooms large. Still, there was a cosy feel to it. How much money did this guy have? Dune couldn’t help himself and snooped around as he tiptoed his way forward. One of the rooms he passed had its door ajar, showing him peeks of a child’s bedroom.

At the end of the hall, Dune found a staircase leading down. Large glass windows were in the ceiling, sending more golden rays down to shower him. Up above he could see a brilliantly clear, blue sky. With cautious step, Dune walked down the stairs, hands trembling. On spaghetti legs, he made his way forward, praying not to fall.

The stairway led him down into a large open space, seeming to be some kind of Livingroom. There were some couches, a large tv screen. A whole lot of books. Dune also noted a pink unicorn plushie. It reasted on the couch like a fairytale king.

One the far side of the Livingroom was a valve opening, leading in to yet another room. Dune walked to it. At first, he could see windows and a large kitchen table. It was filled to the brim with different kinds of breakfast foods: fruits and cheeses and sandwich meats. Freshly homemade bread, still steaming. He saw yogurts and cereals. Dune noted a large selection of teas and a warm pot of coffee and juice. Confused, he walked closer.

“Oh,” a voice said. Dune swirled around. Behind him stood the man from yesterday, turning off the stove. His golden honey brown eyes sparkled and a warm smile stretched over his handsome face. “I was just about to go get you.” Dune’s stomach did a little flip.

The man walked up to Dune with a much surer stride than Dune could have mustered at the moment. Reaching out slowly, he brushed some strands of Dune’s white hair behind his ears. When their skin made contact, Dune gasped. Heat pooled in his stomach. The man’s eyes grew more intense.

“You’re still so open,” he breathed, eyes glazing over. “You make me want to…” he whispered, leaning down, almost as if to kiss him. “But no,” he breathed out, leaning his forehead against Dune’s. Dune’s eyes fluttered shut. “Breakfast first.”

Feeling dazed, Dune meekly followed along as the man guided him to a seat at the table, his arm circled around Dune’s lower back.

“I don’t usually make this big of a breakfast, but had it prepared in advance because I was hoping,” the man said, blushing ever so slightly. “Yesterday, to find-“ he broke off with a laugh. His blush grew stronger. “I had almost given up. I thought I might never find,” he shook his head. “But then there you were,” he said, trailing Dune’s lips with his thumb. Dune’s breath hitched. “You were right there.” The man took Dune’s hand in his, kissing his fingers, golden brown eyes staring into Dune’s. Dune’s dick twitched.

“I,” Dune said breathily, heart beating heavily in his chest. There was something he had prepared to say… Something about… His eyes lingered on the man’s lips, feeling them caress the skin of his hand. Dune swallowed.

“What’s your name?” the man whispered.

“What?” Dune asked, eyes glazed.

“I’m Trillian,” the man said with a smile, linking their fingers together. “Trillian Frost. What’s yours?”

“I’m,” Dune said, shaking his head and swallowing. “River,” he lied, trying to calm down. What was he doing? “River West.” He was such a nerd. Why was he lying? Was he really that embarrassed? Well, maybe, yes, he was, but it wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t going to met this guy again anyhow.

“River Frost now,” the man said, smiling warmly at Dune. “My River,” he laughed breathily, kissing Dune’s hand again.

Even as heat pooled in Dune’s stomach and his groin twitched, a spark of fear filled him. The man didn’t seem to notice. ‘River _Frost’?_ The way the man was talking… A chill snaked down Dune’s spine, clearing his head ever so slightly.

Thankfully, the man, _Trillian_ , pulled back. With a kiss to Dune’s forehead that sent electricity straight to Dune’s groin, he guided Dune towards the table. Pulling out a chair for him, he smiled as Dune sat down. Beaming, the man took a seat at the table beside him. Reaching for a remote control, he shot Dune an apologetic smile.

“I’m just gonna put on the news real quick, River,” Trillian said. “I just wanna see how many parings were made yesterday.”

Not understanding, Dune watched with a confused frown as the man click on a tv-screen. As the man’s attention turned to the TV, Dune was able to breathe again. Feeling as if a spell had been removed, he put a hand over his heart, digging into the fabric of his shirt. Feeling as if his pants were a size too small, he shifted in his seat. Trillian didn’t seem to notice any of it. With his amber eyes locked on the screen, the man reached out to pour himself a cup of coffee.

On the screen, two people sprung to life. A man and a woman, dressed in suits, were seated behind a large desk. They looked like news anchors. Next to the man was the name Robin Birke and by the woman read the text Sky Dommin.

“-record number of joinings, Robin. But it always is on the day of the Moon.”

“It sure is,” the anchor next to the lady said. “You at home, I know we harp on about this every single month, but for everyone’s consent and happiness, we’ll keep doing it. If you don’t want to get joined, don’t go outside after ten in the evening. Everyone outside will be considered willing participants. If you are not ready for the commitment, make sure to be safe at home during this time: from ten in the evening till five in the morning. Stay home, and stay safe.”

“And please remember,” the woman chipped in. “The day of the exception was yesterday. So don’t get your days confused, people. The day of the Moon is the only day when you are allowed to hunt as early as eight. If you begin hunting that early today, it will be considered a crime and will have dire consequences. So, make sure you have a firm grasp on both time and date for everyone’s safety and happiness.”

“The numbers are just in,” the man said, listening to his ear piece. “A staggering of 704 parings were made in our pack yesterday,” the man laughed. “That must be a record.”

“Well,” the woman said and smiled. “The day of the Moon is the most romantic of the hunting days. You know my-” The screen flicked off.

“I’ll make the call about our pairing after breakfast,” the man, _Trillian_ , said, putting the remote down. “I just wanted your name first.” There was a smile in his voice.

Dune could only stare at the blackened screen. A blazing hot fire of _rage_ was slowly bubbling up inside him, burning him from the inside out. A hunt? Pairing? Eight o Clock. Didn’t ice cream seem nice? You go and get it, Dune. The smirk in that rotten bastard’s eyes.

With his heart roaring in his ears, Dune fought down the urge to throw up.

That man, that _demon_ , he’d tricked him. Devon had never intended for Dune to go back home to his side. He wanted Dune to get stuck here. Stuck here with these people, forced into their way of life. Dune clenched his hands into fists, grinding his teeth together. Fuck that! He had no idea what they meant by “joining”, but the man’s, Trillian’s, way of adding his own last name to Dune’s said quite enough. Dune’s hand slid down to his pocket, feeling the bulge of his phone, id and credit card.

“After breakfast,” the man, Trillian, said happily as he buttered a slice of bread, clueless to Dune’s inner fury. “I’ll show you around the house. I’ve had a room prepared for you,” he beamed. “You can do whatever you want with it. You can style it anyway you want and for any interest that you have.” His full attention was on Dune again, a tender smile reaching all the way to his eyes. “Is there anything you love doing, River?” He took a sip from his cup. “Anything artistic or creative you’d want us to organise in there? Any form of hobbies? Maybe you’d want a library?” Smiling, he put the cup down. “Really, it can be anything.”

“No,” Dune bit out. “Can’t think of anything.”

“Oh,” the man said, a frown falling over his face. It was gone as quick as it came though. “Well, there’s no rush,” he smiled. “We have the rest of our lives to think about it.” The slice of bread Dune held dropped to the floor.

A phone rang.

“Damn it,” Trillian cursed and pulled up a phone from his pocked. “What is it and can it wait?” he said into it, for the first time sounding annoyed. “What? When?” The man got up from his seat and began pacing the room, black dreadlocks bouncing as he moved. “Where is he now? What did they report?” He listened for a while, eyes narrowing into thin slits. “No,” he said, gaze sliding over to Dune. “I can’t come in now. I have just…” He rubbed at his face. “Fine. But it will have to be damn quick.” With an angry motion, he hung up the phone and let out an annoyed sigh. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.

“I’m so sorry, River,” he said, sitting down beside Dune, taking his hands in his. “There has been quite the security breach and I, well.” He sighed. “I have to go in and deal with it. They can’t do it without me.” He looked Dune deep in the eyes. “I’m so sorry, love, to do this to you right at the beginning. But I _promise_ I’ll be back before the headaches start.”

“Well, if you have to go…” Dune said, seeing an opening. The man shook his head.

“I really am sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Dune said and gave a genuine smile.

OOOOO

Dune followed Trillian out to the door.

“I really am sorry,” Trillian repeated for the fifth time, looking down on Dune with pain in his eyes. He stroked Dune’s cheek, again sending jolts of electricity straight down to Dune’s groin. He gasped, not able to stop himself. The man took this as an invitation and, leaning down, gave Dune a deep kiss. Heat pooled in Dune’s stomach and sparks exploded all the way down his spine. His dick twitched and stiffened.

“I’ll make this up to you,” the man murmured against Dune’s lips, brushing his fingers against Dune groin. Dune never intended the yearning sound that ripped through him. The man breathily laughed into the kiss, pushing his hand down into Dune’s boxers.

“Oh,” Dune gasped, eyes fluttering as the man’s encircled his dick and squeezed. “Mmmm,” Dune moaned wordlessly against Trillian’s lips. Chuckling, Trillian swirled his thumb over Dune’s weeping head. Dune pressed into the hand, his view darkening. Deepening the kiss, the man began pumping Dune up and down, slowly, slowly. Dune circled his arms around Trillian’s neck and pulled them close together. His cheeks were burning and all he could think about was that hand. Deep inside him something felt empty. His thoughts flashed back to yesterday, of having Trillian inside him, and his dick jumped. Trillian tightened his grip, adding just the most delicious extra bit of friction. Dune’s entire body was trembling. Pushing into the other’s touch, Dune stood on his tiptoes, wanting the other man to swallow him whole.

Dune came almost embarrassingly quick.

Boneless, he hung in Trillian’s hold, chest heaving deeply. Blinking in confusion, he gazed up into the other man’s eyes. They burned as they stared back into his.

“I want nothing more than to be inside you,” he whispered, hot breath tickling Dune’s ear. Kissing Dune’s temple, he sent more flames shooting through Dune’s body. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said, grabbing Dune by the chin, tilting his head to look up at his. “And then we won’t be leaving the bedroom,” he promised. 

For a second, they just stood there, staring at each other. Then the man kissed his temple, tucking Dune back into his pants, and released him.

Dune uncurled his arms from around the other man’s neck. His cheeks burned and his gaze fell to the ground. Trillian laughed.

“I love how open you are with me, River. But if you don’t pull up your walls, I might devour you right here. Right now.”

Blinking, Dune looked up at him in confusion. Meeting his gaze, Trillian’s grin widened.

“Here,” he purred. “Let me help you with that.” Then he did something. Dune had no word for it. Something inside his chest clicked shut. Something that had always been open. Dune didn’t know what to make of it. He twisted a little. It felt strange, not painful, but not good either.

“I’ll be back as fast as I can,” Trillian said, giving Dune a quick kiss. The contact almost swallowed them up again, but Trillian managed to pull back. Looking down on Dune with loving eyes, he brushed his hand through Dune’s pale locks. Then, gaze lingering on Dune, he walked over to the car parked in the drive way.

“As soon as I can,” he repeated the promise. Lingering for just a second, he stood gazing at Dune before opening the car door and getting inside.

Watching the man drive away, Dune leaned against the door frame, slowly sliding down.

Just _what the actual fuck_ , was all of that?

Pinching his nose, Dune tried to calm himself. He willed his heart to slow down, for his breath to even out.

He didn’t have a lot of time.

So, his shirt was stained. The front had a big wet patch all over the stomach.

“Fuck,” Dune cursed between clenched teeth. There would be no scrubbing that away. His heart was picking up speed and a cold sweat broke out all over his skin. How long until Trillian was back? How much time did he have?

Dune ran into the house, slamming the door shut behind him. In large leaps, he bounced up the stairs and flew down the hallway, crashing into Trillian’s large bedroom. Hectically looking around, gaze flickering, he saw the wardrobe. Letting out a harsh sob-like breath, Dune sprinted to it. Ripping up the doors, he looked around for a shirt, a t-shirt, a sweater, anything. He found something thin and soft with short sleeves. Dune ripped off his solid shirt, throwing it to the side. Pulling the clean one over his head, he found it to be much too long. Dune laughed almost hysterically. Trillian was just as large and as muscley as all the other Guardians that Dune had seen. In fact, he was, if possible, even a bit taller. Of course, his shirt was too big. Nothing he could do about that now. It was still better then the alternative.

Running back to the outer door, Dune picked up his jacked that had been dumped there last night. Throwing it on and zipping it up, he looked a tad bit less absurd. Jumping in to his shoes, he was out the door.

Panting, he gazed around. Almost sobbing with relief, he noticed that he actually recognised where he was. This was one of the places where Devon had showed him around on his first day.

Cursing Devon under his breath, Dune took off running.

OOOOO

There was not enough time. Shuddering, he forced his exhausted body to keep on moving. Dune hadn’t been able to keep up the pace the entire way. At times he’d been forced to walk, gulping for air as he did, lungs burning. The sense of urgency never left him though. Once he had stopped all together, leaning forwards with his hands on his thighs. But as soon as he’d caught his breath, he was off again. Still, it took him quite a while to reach the border.

Before arriving at the main building, Dune had taken a break. He’d stopped and sat down on the ground, leaning against a tree. For anyone looking on, he pretended to take a break under the cool shades of the leafy branches. In truth, he just needed to calm down. The gentle shade from the soft leaves helped to sooth him.

When his heart was beating calmly and his breath had evened out, Dune took a big shuddering breath. This had to work. Getting to his feet, he brushed the dust from his pants with slightly shaking hands.

Closing his eyes, he drew for breath again.

He could do this. He could.

He was almost home.

Dune began walking towards the main border house. Keeping his gait calm and controlled, fighting every instinct that told him to run, he made his way over to the main entrance.

Dune wasn’t the only person there. A small stream of people trickled about the place, moving in and out of the building. Some had the tell tail sign of being Channels and Guardians, but just as many looked to be from his side of the border. Dune assumed most of them to be businessmen. No tourism was allowed from his side of the border, but business boomed between the two countries. Someone had to make the deals, Dune guessed. Joining that steady but small stream of bodies, Dune made his way into the building. A line of birds on the rooftop looked down on him as he entered.

First, he came to a large waiting room. Right in front of him was a machine giving out que numbers. He took one, trying to keep his hand from shaking. Glancing down on the ticked, he compared the number with the one glowing over the reception. There were five numbers before him. Sighing shakily, he went over to a bench and sat down.

Fumbling nervously, he pulled his phone out of his pocked. Energy buzzed through his veins like wasps. Tears stung his eyes in relief as he saw he had reception. A tight knot grew in his throat. He couldn’t stop his finger from trembling as a dialled the number.

“Uncle Tommen,” he said into the phone, closing his eyes. “Yeah, I’m coming home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, smut is so hard to write. Like, really hard. Like, super hard. Lol, and that's not a word play. Sorry if it came of as clunky.


	5. Empty

**Chapter Five**

**You laugh**

**And then you wake**

**But find your dream**

**Has changed shape**

Trillian hated that he’d had to leave River so early in their joining. Everything about the man drew him in. Trillian had never seen a Channel so tall before. Even that part enticed him. How those pale green eyes looked at him in bewilders amazement sent shivers down his back. The sounds he made when Trillian touched him… His dick twitched at the memory.

Calming himself, not wanting to get a hard on at work, Trillian pulled himself together. The sooner he got this done, the sooner he would be back with River. Back in River. He shuddered again.

“We will put guards here and here,” Trillian said, pointing at the map. “Not under any circumstances are you to engage him,” he warned, his voice hard. “You will report directly back to me and I will handle him.”

There hadn’t been a rough Alpha for ages. It wasn’t known what had made the Deepvale´s Alpha go off, or even if he was fully broken. If he needed to be taken down or if the Healers in his tribe would be able to pull him back was yet to be seen. If he made a move against Trillian’s border though, he curled his hands into tight balls. Then Trillian would crush him.

“I want hourly updates,” Trillian said, cursing under his breath. What he wanted was to focus on River. He hoped his Channel would be able to forgive him. River deserved to be his main focus and to have a safe and secure transition into his change. But with the safety of the entire pack on the line… Trillian cursed under his breath. He didn’t have a choice. His focus had to be divided, something neither his pack nor his Channel deserved.

Disgusted, Trillian stepped away from the table. He could kill the crazed Alpha for interrupting his joining with River alone. Neither he nor River should have to be bothered by anything other than each other during this part of their relationship. He needed to be there for River and lessen all the pain that came with the change. Trillian grinded his teeth together. He would have to contact River’s parents. If he had to step away during a critical moment they could step in and somewhat lessen the pain for River. Not as much as Trillian could though. Not as much as Trillian.

“Damn it,” Trillian hissed, slamming a fist against the table.

“I know a rough Alpha is a big bother, but this isn’t like you.”

Trillian sighed. It was his childhood friend, Raoul who’d spoken. He was a Guardian with yellow amber eyes and orange hair with thin black and white stripes running through it. Now he looked at Trillian with a raised orange eyebrow. “I mean, you could pretty much take him. Do you really need to moan about it?” Trillian laughed humourlessly. The elimination of a rough Alpha was nowhere near as easy as Raoul made it out to be, but…

“Oh, that’s not it, Raoul.” Trillian said and shook his head. He gave his friend a dry and crocked grin. “I’ve found my Channel.”

Raoul’s jaw dropped.

“Oh,” the man said, mouth open.

“I’ve waited so long to find him,” Trillian said, laughing angrily. “And when I finally have him in my arms, I have to leave him. Right when he needs me the most.” Looking at his empty hands, Trillian shook his head. “I haven’t even been able to report it to Records yet. I haven’t contacted his parents; I haven’t learned about his schooling. Hells,” he put a hand over his eyes. “I haven’t even had a chance to speak to him for more than five minutes.”

“That _is_ bad timing,” Raoul said, making a face. “But hey,” he grasped Trillian’s upper arm. “It’s right in the beginning, right? I bet his headaches hadn’t even started by the time you left?” Trillian shook his head in agreement. “Well then, go home. I can handle the updates. I’ll only call you when you actually need to be called.” Then he grinned at Trillian. “You go home and have some fun. Make that Channel feel reeeeeal special.” Then he wriggled his eyebrows. Trillian had to laugh.

OOOOO

With a curse between his teeth, Trillian tore into the driveway, tires screeching. In spite of his sincerest intention to be back quickly, four hours had already passed. Slamming the car door closed, Trillian sprinted up the walkway. His heart was beating maddeningly in his chest and his mouth watered. The sight of River’s flushed face and passion filled eyes… his cock twitched. His hands shook as he opened the door.

“River,” he called out, closing the door behind him. There was no answer. Maybe he hadn’t heard him?

Longing for River, Trillian jogged through to the kitchen. River wasn’t there. Neither was he in the Livingroom. Trillian rubbed his sweating palms down his hips. The taste of River still lingered on his tongue. The sound of his gasps and moans still rang like silverbells in Trillian’s mind, as clear as if they were happening at that very moment.

Quickening his steps, he ran up the stairs, chuckling breathily to himself in anticipation. Of course River would be in the bedroom, waiting for him. Trillian swallowed and began running in earnest, the sound of his feet slamming against the floor. He skids into the room, a smile on his lips.

It was empty.

Frowning, Trillian stepped in. Looking around, he saw a discarded shirt on the floor. He walked up to it slowly. As if in a dream, he bent down and picked up the garment. Staring down on it, cold built inside his gut. His fingers tightened around the fabric in his hands. Breathing in heavily, chest going up and down, eyes narrowing, Trillian realised something else.

The scent of his Channel was many hours old.

OOOOO

It was almost laughable how easy it had been.

Dune had waited for his number to come up. Sweat prickled the back of his neck and nausea grew like an angry ball in his chest. When he saw the numbers blink to be his turn, he forced a calm he didn’t feel. Plastering on a smile he casually walked up to the receptionist. This time it was a young man. Dune was pretty sure the guy was a Channel from how short he was. The young man also seemed new at his job, hesitant and nervous. When he moved around where he sat, it was followed with short, shaky jerks and a frown on his brow. Dune was pretty sure he saw the man’s fingers shake.

“I’ve been here on a business trip,” Dune lied and pulled out his id. “It ended early so now I’m heading home.”

The young man picked up Dune’s card and wrote something into the machine.

“Yes,” the young man said, frowning at the screen. “I do find a matching post with a Dune North.” He narrowed his eyes. “Has it been altered?” he mumbled to himself. “It looks a little…” The man’s eyes narrowed even more as he chewed on his lip and leaned in closer to the screen. The frown he had grew deeper. Then he let out a stressed sigh and leaned back again.

“It seems to be in order,” he said, handing Dune back his id. “You’re free to exit.” And then that was that. Dune was allowed to leave. The man in the booth was still staring intensely at the screen as Dune walked away, a deep frown on his forehead. 

The sound of his blood rushed through Dune’s ears and the smatter of his footsteps screamed with every step he took. Echoing like an angry monster. Still, no one stopped him. As he pushed the large doors open, heart in his throat, not a single Guardian made a move to stop him. No one came, the path was clear.

Dune was finally going home.

Without a problem, he walked through a hallway, through to the other side that was staffed with people from his side of the border. And soon enough, he walked out through the doors, out into the open space of his country. His home. A euphoric sense of victory rushed through him.

In front of the station stood Tommen’s car with his uncle waiting beside it. He shooed a bird away from the car’s roof. Dune heaved his chest in relief and went over him. With tears stinging his eyes, he wrapped his arms around Tommen and hugged him tightly. Tommen hugged him right back.

“You’re back early,” Tommen said, worry in his voice.

“Yeah,” Dune said, pulling himself together. He didn’t want Tommen to see tears in his eyes. “And I’m never going back again.”

The bird flapped down on the car’s roof once more.

OOOOO

Forest stood by the window, looking out over the yard, past the garden, down the road. There was a harsh line over his face and his jaws were clenched tightly together. Laila walked up behind him and circled her arms around his waist. Heaving a deep sigh, he put his hand over hers, hanging with his head.

“He’s not coming back, Forest,” Laila said, not unsympathetic. He sighed all over again. “Maybe it won’t be so bad,” she tried, leaning her forehead against his back. Forest closed his eyes.

“Did you see his eyes, Laila?” Forest asked, looking out over the garden again. “He had no idea.”

Laila bit her lip.

“It,” she tried. “Might turn out to have been for the best?” She walked around to stand next to Forest. “Joining will be good for him.”

A hard shine entered Forest’s eyes and the muscles in his jaws flexed.

“You can’t honestly believe that,” he bit out. “A joining like that.” He huffed.

Laila grew quiet and she looked down at the floor. “It might be,” she said finally, not sounding convinced herself. “You saw how open he was…” Her words trailed off.

“He’s going to hate us,” Forest said, back stiff.

“You don’t know that,” Laila said, voice very low. Almost tiny.

“Wouldn’t you?” he asked. Tears stung his eyes, but he forced them away. Some brother he’d turned out to be.

“Don’t hate me Forest,” she whispered. “But if your dad hadn’t stepped in, you would have lost him anyhow.” She bit her lip. “He didn’t want to be here. He wouldn’t have stayed.” She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it lightly. “Now he has to.”

The tears he’d kept in all throughout the night and long into the day finally spilled out, slowly pouring down his cheeks.

OOOOO

Devon sat in his office, making arrangements. Anytime now, or in the few coming days, the phone would ring and the Guardian who’d claimed Dune would make contact. Devon would have to inform him or her of his son’s unusual situation. Dune’s citizenship was already on the way. The papers had been filled in and sent in for confirmation and approval. Holding the position, he held, Devon had been able to do most of that himself. All that was left was for the final approval by the Alpha. The man had already been informed of the unusual situation of a Channel being born on the wrong side of the border. He’d agreed that the Channel had to be brought home no matter what. There was no doubt in Devon’s mind that the Alpha would give his go ahead and finalise the papers. Even though Devon hadn’t needed his Alpha’s help to handle the situation, he had made sure to inform Devon that should help be needed, it would be given. Whatever the cost.

Just the thought of a Channel being alone in their neighbouring country was ridicules. Dune had to be secured and handled. The boy couldn’t be any safer than in the hands of a Guardian. He’d come to see that himself. That Dune had spent any time at all on _that_ side was highly unfortunate. It had given Dune strange ideas, a warped way of thinking and more importantly, he knew nothing about himself or his own people. He didn’t know what he was, who he was or what he needed to be whole. To be happy. If Devon had known that that one single night would have… He hadn’t even seen him grow up. 

In the meantime, while waiting, Devon had put together information the Guardian would need. His intelligence agents had gathered as much information about Dune as possible. Everything noteworthy and some things that were just extra, sat neatly put together in a folder in front of Devon. Dune’s possessions would have to be brought over to his new home too. At least the guitars. That was for his Guardian to decide though. There was only so much Devon was allowed to do at this stage. With his son’s joining, he now belonged to his new Guardian.

Devon leaned back in his seat, satisfied in the knowledge that Dune would finally be safe and secure in competent hands. In their pack and right where he belonged. All Devon had to do now, was wait. A stray glance sneaked away to his phone. Any time now, the call would come.

OOOOO

Trillian was going crazy.

River was gone. He was simply, unexplainedly, gone. For hours, Trillin had just paced the floors of his house, waiting for River to come back. He’d made up excuses for him. Maybe he had just wanted to take a walk. Maybe he had to take care of something at home and would be back at any time. As the time dragged on, his thoughts grew darker. Maybe Dune had gone for a walk and then gotten lost? But if he went out to look for him, would they miss each other? Maybe Dune had been in an accident? Maybe something had happened to his family. Maybe the change had come fast and River was out there somewhere, writhing in pain and fear.

When the clock went past four, Trillian simply lost it.

Gritting his teeth, eyes flashing gold, he snagged his car keys, slammed the outer door shut behind him and tore the car door open. His drive to the government building was neither completely safe nor sane.

With darkness closing in around his vision, he stomped into the building, never even noticing how people scattered out of his way.

He went straight to his assistance. The man jumped as Trillian slammed the door to his office shut. When the man saw the burning glow in Trillian’s eyes, he swallowed hard.

“Get me everything you can find on River West,” he hissed through gritted teeth. Ben didn’t even reply as he threw himself on his computer. Staring at him with narrowed eyes, Trillian watched the man grow paler and paler.

“What is it,” Trillian finally hissed out, rolling the ‘S’ more than he intended.

“Sir,” Ben said, a slight tremble in his voice. “I can’t find anything on a River West.” The colour of his skin drained with every word he spoke. “I’ve tried every spelling I can think of.” He swallowed. “We simply don’t have anyone of that name in our pack.”

OOOOO

“Are you okay though?” Tommen finally said. The need to ask the question had bubbled beneath his skin and perfumed the air around him since picking Dune up.

“Sure,” Dune said, trying to sound unfaced by it all. “Just a little headache, but other than that, I’m just fine.” He chewed his lips. “But I’m not going back.” They would have to drag him with a pack of wild horses for that to happen. It all felt so stupid now. What had he been thinking? That these strangers from some weird ass place would ever be family? That they cared? That he, as a grown up, could ever regain what it was to have a dad and brothers? Those bonds couldn’t be made so late in life. How could he have thought they could? How could he have believed it was even in the cards after meeting Devon? After seeing what kind of person he was. Dune just felt so stupid. Stupid, naïve. Lonely. He was so lonely.

The closer the car took them to Dune’s home, the thicker the lump in his throat grew.

“Uncle Tommen,” Dune said, swallowing thickly.

“Yeah?” Tommen asked, knuckles clenched against the steering wheel and his eyes locked forward.

“Can I stay at your place?” Tommen’s eyes swirled towards him. Lowering his eyes, Dune folded his hands in his lap to stop them from trembling. “Just for a little while.” The words were low, flat.

“…Yeah. Sure. Of course.” At the first possible spot, Tommen changed direction. A tension that had bubbled inside Dune burst. In one long slow exhale, Dune released the pressure that had built up inside him ever since he woke up in Trillian’s bed that morning. Had it really only been a day? Next to him, Tommen clenched his jaws so hard that Dune could see his muscles twitch.

“Tell me what happened,” Tommen said. His tone was sharp, no nonsense. Expecting to be obeyed. Dune couldn’t though. Sighting, he looked out the side window, rubbing his fingers against his palms. But Tommen expected him to say something. The air had thickened with it. The inside of the car was filled to bursting with his worry, concern and growing, _frustrated_ , anger towards people he couldn’t touch.

“Maybe,” Dune said, “I could have avoided this earlier. I just can’t feel them like normal, you know? It’s like they’re blocking me. If I could have, maybe I would have sensed that they were ass-hats right from the start.”

“…Feel them?” Tommen asked, a frown forming between his eyes.

“Yeah,” Dune said, turning towards him. “Like, what they’re feeling.”

“I don’t- What do you mean?”, Tommen asked, chancing a glance towards Dune over the wheel. Dune got a bit frustrated.

“You know. They wouldn’t let me feel them. Like we do with each other; if we’re happy or sad or annoyed. Like normal. Somehow, they wouldn’t let me do that.”

“Dune…” Tommen said, frown growing deeper. “That…” He shook his head.

“What?” Dune asked.

“I can’t do that.”

“What?”

“What you said,” Tommen continued. “Feel what other people are feeling. It…” Tommen’s mouth twitched as he paused. “I can’t do that. Jack and Sam can’t do that. Norms… We can’t do that.”

Dune just stared at him.

“Have you…” Tommen asked. “Always… been able to do that?”

Dune opened his mouth, closed it. His brow scrunched up in a frown as his eyes began to sting. Clenching his jaws together, Dune turned back towards the window. Gritting his teeth so hard it made his bones hurt, he stared out without seeing anything. In his lap his hands were clasped together into a tight ball, slightly trembling. The rest of the way to Tommen’s house, neither of them said another word.

OOOOO

Trillian stood outside his house. A small crowd of animals waited before him: a bloodhound, a wolf, two foxes, an albatross, a cat, three hawks, one mongoose and a ferret. He threw a piece of cloth in the middle of their huddle. As one, they turned towards it.

“Find him,” he said. The animals scattered.

Watching them go, Trillian narrowed his eyes. He turned his focus back to the cloth. River’s shirt. A fire, bordering on insanity, ate him from the inside.

His River was gone. Taken? Lost? Hidden? Another pack maybe? There could be spies. There could. Someone he trusted? A betrayer? Trillian swallowed.

He’d rip their hearts out with his bare hands.

Trillian stuck out his tongue and licked the air.

If he so had to walk over corpses, he would find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that I'm pretty wage about the world dynamics so far. My intentions are for you to learn as Dune learns. It's more fun that way :)
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter.


End file.
